Noticing
by indigentsalt
Summary: one shot stiles x erica, post episode 2.07, restraint. t for language.


"Derek. Derek!"

"What?" the alpha answered gruffly.

"She's awake," Isaac said. A moaning noise echoed his words and Derek stood up from his seat at their makeshift table, his pace quickening as he approached his injured beta. Isaac moved to the side, letting Derek crouch down beside Erica. He reached for her arm, examining the break. It was cleanly healed, but Erica let out another moan as Derek dropped it.

"Erica," he said. She lapsed into unconsciousness again, and Derek and Isaac waited in silence. Finally, Derek sighed and stood.

"I don't understand," Isaac confessed, looking nervously at Derek. "The kan- Jackson got her before, didn't he? But she was just paralyzed for a little while," he said. Derek shook his head.

"Allison got her with the venom, but Jackson didn't attack her himself. Didn't deliver the venom into the bloodstream," Derek answered shortly. "She's only fighting it because she's a shapeshifter too." he added. Isaac glanced down at his packmate, his expression clearly reading that he'd already figured _that_ one out.

"So it balanced out and made her seize," he offered. Derek nodded, eyes still on the disheveled blond girl. He bent down again, putting the back of his hand against her forehead. At this, Erica's eyes flew open, instantly turning that burning gold color, fangs extending, and her clawed hand would've broken Derek's own arm if he hadn't pulled away in time.

"YOU BROKE MY WRIST!" she screeched, and Isaac threw his hands over his burning ears. Her voice had to be supersonic or something.

"I had to!" Derek barked back, his own eyes blazing. She threw off the leather jacket that Derek had put over her and jumped to her feet, clearly ready to fight. Derek was _not_ supposed to hurt her. He was supposed to do everything to protect her. He had promised he would give her a way to fight back- and he wasn't supposed to be the one she had to fight against! But she wasn't strong enough yet, and the blood rushed to her head, and her knees buckled and she toppled into Isaac's arms. Derek looked furious, and Isaac his usual slightly terrified. But a horn honked, making all three werewolves tense, and Derek whipped around, flying out of the abandoned train car to see who could possibly be disturbing their domestic bliss at a time like this. Isaac sat Erica down on one of the old seats.

"We've got a plan," Isaac and Erica heard, even from outside, and Isaac's eyes narrowed at the sound of Stiles' voice. He glanced at Erica to see that her brown eyes had gone large and round. Isaac scowled.

"You probably shouldn't get up," he grumbled, and left the train too.

"Asswipes," Erica grumbled, but she couldn't have stood, even if she wanted to. She could hear the blood pumping in her veins, something she could usually block out, but the noise was taking her over in her weakness. The blood seemed like it was dammed up in her head and at the soles of her feet, leaving her heart pumping wearily with nothing to push and the tips of her fingers freezing with cold. She lifted an arm experimentally, tried to wiggle her fingers and failed. The venom was still circulating. She dropped her arm, exhausted.

"Allison told me that Matt invited her to this thing on Friday, and we're pretty sure Jackson is gonna go." It was Scott speaking.

"Define _thing_," said Derek, clearly unimpressed. Erica smirked.

"It's like... Like a uh..."

"A rave," Stiles stepped in. "Crazy house party. DJ, lights, drugs, all of it."

"And why would this work? There's going to be too many people there. You saw what he did at the club," Derek reminded them. "We have to get him _before_ he goes out!" he exclaimed. Erica heard his fist pound into his palm.

"Well there's um... About that," said Stiles with a sigh, and Erica could see him scratching the back of head embarrassedly. His idiosyncrasies were so overwhelming to her. She wasn't sure if anyone else knew or noticed. Definitely not Scott, whose head was so far up Allison's ass she was surprised Allison didn't talk with his voice. And not that bitch Lydia, who didn't notice anyone but herself. But she, _she_ noticed. The way his mouth hung open when he was focused on something, the way he watched every interaction like it mattered, the way she could see him categorize each and every fact to be pulled up for use later.

"What about that," Derek growled.

"He's sort of under police protection, since they think we're all out to get him." Stiles said, in a super faux-casual voice. Derek groaned. "Like, a _lot_ of it. Like, round the clock escort sort of thing."

"Which at least means he can't escape as the kanima," Isaac put in, speaking for the first time. The men outside made humming noises of agreement.

"But we're pretty sure that my dad's folks will let him go to the party, since there'll be too many witness," Stiles explained.

"So we just have to catch him there," Derek decided. There was a pause.

"You say it like it's easy," Stiles said finally.

"When's the full moon?" Derek asked.

"Sunday," Isaac answered promptly. Erica twiddled her fingers again, and was pleased to see her left hand obeying her bidding. The right one not so much.

"We've got to get everyone to full strength," Derek muttered. "We're going to have to fight on Friday."

"Why do you say that?" Scott asked. God, if she never had to hear his stupid voice again-

"If he turns and attacks on Friday, there's no other way. It's not like we can just ask him to come nicely," Derek retorted. "Scott, you'll have to do some training with us." Erica rolled her eyes, shoulders slumping. Goody.

"It's not just Jackson though," Stiles said. "We've got to track down his master."

"What do you mean, master?" Derek asked immediately. Stiles launched into a remarkably long-winded explanation of the kanima's habits, long enough that by the time he was done, Erica could move all her fingers and toes, though her knees, and thus standing up, were still beyond her. "So we'll delegate someone to that task," said Derek, and there was a pause.

"What, why me?" Stiles suddenly cried. There was another moment of silence. "That is so not fair. Look just because I can't sprout fangs and claws and horrible face pubes- okay I'll do it," he corrected quickly, his voice going squeaky. Erica snorted, imagining all three werewolves raising their clawed hands to threaten him.

"Then get to it," Derek grouched. "Isaac, call Boyd, tell him to get his ass back here," he added, and three pairs of footsteps strolled away.

"Thanks for backing me up Scott," Stiles grumbled.

"We could all hear that," Isaac piped up meanly, and Stiles sighed.

"So what, I'm just supposed to wait here?" Stiles yelled.

"Well, you're my ride, so uh, yeah," Scott answered back, his voice echoing in the warehouse.

"God help me for associating with werewolves," he muttered, and Erica giggled. Stiles must have heard her, because after a moment he said,

"Erica?"

"In here," she chimed, quickly fluffing her hair, resettling her ample breasts in her corset top, and arranging her legs neatly, reclining slightly so that by the time Stiles poked his head into the train she was looking pretty attractive for someone recovering from paralyzing snake venom.

"How are you um, feeling?" he asked, stepping in but stopping at the entrance, rocking slightly in his white Adidas sneakers.

"Oh, as well as can be expected," she sighed dramatically. He didn't say anything. "Are you going to just stand there and ogle me? Because there was plenty of time to do that before, you know," she snapped. Stiles started, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

"Oh- I mean, uh," he hesitated, looking between the doorway and her. For a long moment, he just looked at her, his head cocked slightly to the side. She raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow, which spurred him into motion. He stepped towards her slowly, then sat down in the seat across from her. "I uh... So you can move and everything? No permanent paralysis?" he asked her. Erica shook her head, not moving her hands so he couldn't see the trembling of her hands.

"Still need a little rest, but I'll be up and kicking in a bit, I'm sure," she said easily. Stiles nodded at the floor.

"Thanks for your help. With Jackson's parents and everything," he said. She shrugged.

"Thanks for taking me to Derek," she replied. Tit for tat, as it were.

"Is your arm okay?" Stiles asked, nodding at the wrist Derek had broken. Erica lifted it up and twisted around, smiling lightly at Stiles.

"Oh this old thing?" she asked.

"Is it true? What you said?" he suddenly blurted out, and Erica realized he'd just been using the small talk to work up the courage to ask his real question. But he was going to have to work for it.

"About what?" she asked innocently.

"Well, uh," Stiles scratched the back of his head and Erica smirked. "Well that you, er, that you liked me," he said uncomfortably. Erica studied him for a second. This was her chance to tell him that she'd just been fucking around, trying to play him for information. That would be easy, but she couldn't bear to see the relief in his face if she lied to him. She didn't want him to feel unburdened of the guilt of never having noticed her, of having pushed her aside as a _freak_, like all the fucking rest of them. No, he could feel as bad as they'd made her feel.

"What, you think I'm some sort of liar?" she asked with a pout. "You may think I'm a bitch, Stiles, but I don't tell lies." She held up a hand, thumb held across her palm, and smirked. "Scout's honor." She had to lower her shaking hand.

"I don't think you're a bitch," he blurted out. Erica listened hard, but his heart rate didn't speed up.

"You did," she murmured, softer now.

"Okay well maybe before," he admitted. He clearly knew better than to lie to werewolves. "But that was when you beaned me on Boyd's front porch," he muttered, rubbing his head at the memory. Erica laughed, and even Stiles cracked a smile. "I'm sorry," he added suddenly, and Erica cocked her head at him.

"For what?" she asked suspiciously. He paused.

"For not... Not noticing you," he clarified. Erica frowned. Maybe he was just apologizing to himself, because Stiles thought he noticed everything. But he seemed earnest, and her face softened. Clearly he noticed her now. Maybe...

"You know Lydia will never apologize for ignoring you," she murmured. Stiles stiffened.

"You think I don't know that?" he asked, and let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not deluded, just in love," he muttered, and that hurt more than anything. Erica made a face. She'd clearly been in love _and_ deluded, because she had somehow imagined Stiles was about to-

"They're about one and the same," she retorted.

"So what's your delusion?" he asked immediately.

"That you weren't a dick like the rest of them," she hissed. Stiles stopped at this, his frown falling away in startled confusion.

"That I... Erica I didn't-" he didn't seem to know what to say, and Erica sighed.

"Sorry," she muttered grudgingly. "I know how you feel about her. It's just hard not to be jealous," she said easily. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a candid conversation, with anyone. Stiles didn't say anything for a while, and they lapsed into silence.

"It hurt, watching your arm get broken," he said at last. Erica gave him a 'duh' look.

"It fucking hurts getting it broken," she snapped, unsure what he meant. Stiles shook his head, ignoring her tone.

"I mean... I mean we'd gotten you here, made sure you were safe, and then to see Derek just snap your bones like that..." he wasn't looking at her.

"He had to," she said, immediately defending her alpha.

"I don't ever want to hear someone scream like that again," he admitted, and Erica, for all her honestly a few seconds ago, suddenly felt uncomfortable. She thrust her wrist into his line of vision.

"Look. I'm fine. You can touch it. It won't snap," she insisted, and after a second, Stiles wrapped warm fingers around her wrist and met her eyes. Erica's breath stalled fast in her lungs, like the motor powering her muscles had shorted. She felt his grip tighten on her skin as his brown eyes bored into hers. She couldn't look away. "Satisfied, Batman?" She choked out. Stiles laughed for the first time, and let go of her. All she wanted was for him to hold onto her body like that, like he wouldn't ever release it. He opened his mouth to answer her.

"Stiles! Let's go! I gotta get home before mom does!" It was Scott.

"Dickfuck," Erica hissed under her breath. Stiles, eyebrows raised, glanced at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," she answered, smoothing her hands over her pants. He stood. _Don't go_.

"I'll see you soon, Catwoman. Feel better," he added with a crooked smile, and when Erica didn't say anything, he left the train. Fucking McCall. They'd been about to have a moment!

Erica looked away, taking a deep breath through still shuddering lungs, her hair falling around her face. She heard Scott and Stiles get in, buckle their seatbelts. She heard the key in the ignition, felt her blood trying to support her battered heart, like it was the vessels pumping her heart instead of the other way around. She heard the car back up and peel away out of the warehouse. She heard Isaac enter the train car, and Derek's feet pad away to wherever.

Isaac filled her vision, his white long-sleeved henley, crouching down before her. He reached up and stroked her hair behind her ear.

"How many times I gotta tell you to forget about him?" he murmured. Erica wrinkled her nose, a defense against sniffing.

"I don't see you forgetting about _Lydia_," she retorted. Why did everyone love the bitch so much?

"What do you mean? Do you think I still think about her like that? Do you think I imagine her when we fuck?" Erica didn't say anything, and Isaac gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "I'm over her, Erica, and you should be too. We don't need them. We've got pack now. We've got Derek. We've got _us_," he insisted. Erica sighed.

"You're right," she murmured. Isaac smiled wryly at her.

"You're shit at pretending," he informed her, and leaned up and kissed her gently, belying his strong hold on her jaw. Erica wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her.

"Whatever," she muttered. She knew he was right. About everything. She didn't need Stiles Stilinski. She didn't need Batman either. Catwoman had never needed Batman. They heard footsteps and separated.

"What's going on?" It was Boyd, back from the recon mission Derek had sent him on in the forest, where the trailer murder had happened.

"Come on guys. Let's discuss Friday." Derek said from somewhere off in the warehouse. Isaac stood and held out his hand to Erica, who took it and gingerly got to her feet. This time her knees locked, keeping her up, and she let Isaac lead her out of the train.


End file.
